Let's Go To Japan, Miria!
by Kimiko Nishimura
Summary: How did Isaac and Miria get to Japan? How did they learn to text? How are they in the Dollars? And do they like Russia Sushi? Just a couple random stories that involve the most intriguing immortal couple and how they ended up in Durarara!
1. Let's Go To Japan!

_Kimiko: I hope you like this. I'm not sure if it's too good...the idea kinda popped up in my head one day._

**Let's Go To Japan!**

The first thing Isaac Dian saw when he got off the subway was a movie poster advertising something that apparently took place in feudal Japan. He pointed at it so Miria could see.

"Miria! Look at that poster!"

"Oh, I see it! It looks cool! I wish we were there, Isaac!"

A bright idea suddenly came to Isaac.

"Hey Miria, let's go to Japan! We can be samurai and fight against the evil ninja warlords. It'll be easy! There are plenty of travel agents who help people do that, you know! We'll go there and blend right in as soon as we have Japan, uh, Japan-ian clothes."

Miria looked closely at the picture. "But you know Isaac, these people don't really look like us. What'll we do if the evil ninjas find out we're not Japan-ians?"

Isaac could see her point. "Oh, Mira, you're right. Hmm…" he tapped his chin thoughtfully, not realizing that he was standing in the way of the subway door. Other people tried to politely move around him as he stood there, oblivious to everything outside his own little world. "Ah! I've got it, my dear! We'll get hats to hide our hair so we don't seem like foreign people!"

"Oh! I see, Isaac! That's so smart of you!"

"Yes, these things just seem to come to me!"

_The next day,_

"Now mister, we'd like to go to Japan. Help us get there!"

"Yes, please help us!"

"Yes, sir. Of course, that's what this agency is here for." The travel agent looked over the couple that came into his office. The man was dressed in a hakama with a [hopefully fake] broadsword attacked to his waist and had a large sombrero on his head. The woman was wearing a brightly colored kimono and had on a jester hat. Each was carrying two suitcases, one slim, the other larger. He blinked at their apparel before remembering to take them seriously, as they were customers.

"Where in Japan would you like to travel?" He asked politely.

"Why, all over!"

"Yes, all over the country!"

"Okay," the travel agent said, writing this down. "So you'd like a tour of the country. How long do you want to spend on your vacation?"

"Well, at least until we've defeated the ninja warlords!"

"As long as it takes. Oh, but after that, we can have fun doing other things!"

"Yeah, like making fireworks that look like us!"

"Or maybe catching bugs and sushi-fish!"

The travel agent paused. Normally, he would question the customer's sanity at answers like these, but when the two came in, the receptionist told him that they had a lot of money—cash!—in the suitcase that they brought and they should get whatever they wanted.

"So, you're um, undecided on the period of time. But you would like to spend your time on a vacation that is left for you to plan as you go. Well, that's all right. So next is," he paused. Maybe it would be best to fly by all the paperwork and just give them the agency's number for when they wanted to return. He got the feeling that these two wouldn't know when to leave. It would be best to get them the closest thing to citizenry so they wouldn't get in trouble for staying too long.

"That is, I'll have the company jet take you there as soon as possible. There are just a few things to sign and then you can leave for Japan. We'll see you to Tokyo first. Is that okay with you, Mr. and Mrs.?"

"Oh, I'm Isaac Dian."

"I'm Miria Harvent."

"And that's perfectly fine with us!"

"We'll sign whatever you need!"

The travel agent nodded and left them quickly, to get the papers he needed. As he left, he could hear them talking more about jets and warlords.

He shook his head. Some rich people were just strange. He supposed the money made them that way.

Though, if they were rich, why didn't they have their own travel agent?

* * *

><p><strong>Kimiko: Please review and tell me what you think! (^^)<strong>**b**


	2. How do you do that?

_Kimiko and Flanagan: Because the last one was short, we're giving you the next chapter right away!  
>Kimiko: But it'll still be short...<em>**  
><strong>

**How do you do that?**

At first, Miria didn't notice it, but after talking with Isaac for about ten minutes, it was hard to miss.

The silence.

The train was making plenty of noise. The intercom kept announcing the next station. But no one was really talking to each other.

She looked around and saw that everyone on the train either had those ear-plugs with wires in their ears or they were looking at cell phone screens. Or both. Wait, it wasn't just looking at the screen. They were pushing buttons rapidly on the keypads.

This was intriguing. She couldn't see what exactly what they were doing, but Miria watched for a few moments and then said, "Hey, Isaac,"

"What is it, Miria?"

"What are those people doing on their cell phones?"

Isaac saw what she was pointing at. He too watched the people push buttons. Unlike Miria, he could see the words they were typing. They were typing messages and apparently sending them to others. Why not just talk to people? He knew that you could talk to people far away on a phone. Isaac was puzzled for a moment. But he had to make sense of it to tell Miria, so he quickly came up with an answer.

"That's it, Miria; they're writing messages to people they can't talk to!"

"Really? So they're reaching out to people who can't see them face to face?"

"Yes," Isaac explained. This was making more and more sense to him as well. "These people are lonely and they send messages to other people who are lonely."

"It's like writing a message and sending it in a bottle! But you're sending it to someone who can't speak!"

"That's exactly right, Miria." By now some of the people were looking up at them. Many of these continued to type on their keypads, texting about weird foreign people on the train.

"Hey, Isaac," Miria said longingly. "I want to send messages to people, too."

"Then we'll do that! Remember those phones we stole in New York? We should still have one or two left." He rooted in his backpack for the ripped bag that held the cell phones that had been stuffed in half a year ago. Finally finding it, he brought out two phones and handed one to Miria. He remembered how to turn them on from when he had seen Firo do it a while ago.

Isaac looked around quickly. He sat down next to a middle-aged man and said, "Would you show us how to do what you're doing with that cell phone?"

The man's eyes widened. "Ah, I am sorry. I do not know to speak English," he stuttered.

"That's okay," Miria said with tears in her eyes. "That's why you send messages to others like you, who can't speak, right?"

The man seemed confused and rather disturbed by Miria's crying. There was a light chuckle from behind him. He turned around and saw a young man wearing a black fur-lined coat leaning against the side of the train.

"Mister, I can help you," he said in slightly accented English. "You want to send texts, right?" He then proceeded with a short explanation of how to open the texting function and send messages. "Here, this is my number. You can send me texts when you want."

"Thank you, kind sir!" Isaac exclaimed.

"Yes, thank you," Miria added, forgetting the reason why they wanted to text in the first place.

"Oh. Here is a function that changes Japanese to English. It should be helpful. Just type the symbols you see into this space and press this."

"Oh, thank you again!"

"Yes, thank you!"

Izaya Orihara smiled. These people were interesting. In fact, they were interesting enough to join the Dollars. All he had to do was send an email in English.

This was fun. People never ceased to amaze him.

* * *

><p>"Oh!" Isaac exclaimed as they left the train. "We forgot to ask his name!"<p>

Miria considered this. "Well, whoever he was, it was nice meeting him. He was definitely a nice guy!"

Isaac nodded.

"Now Miria, let's take on Japan!"

"Yeah!" There was a pause. "But Isaac, shouldn't we learn how to speak Japanese first?"

There was a longer pause.

"Of course, that's exactly what I was thinking!"

* * *

><p><strong>Flanagan: Kimiko wants reviews and unfortunately I can't give her those. But you can...<strong>

**Kimiko: Aww, Flanagan, you're so sweet!**

**Flanagan: ...**


	3. I didn't know sushi came from Russia!

_Kimiko: Thank you for the input, catgirl9696! I'll try to include some of those ideas. Here's the next chapter since you liked it!_

_Flanagan: And she doesn't own these characters or settings._

_Both: Enjoy!_**  
><strong>

**I didn't know sushi came from Russia!**

Isaac Dian and Miria Harvent felt like they were in another New York. The city was filled with lights and signs and buildings and cars and people. These people were both talking and texting, which Isaac and Miria knew all about now, thanks to that nice man on the train.

But there was no time to text now. Isaac and Miria thought they didn't have enough eyes as they looked all around at the sights.

"Hey, Isaac," Miria sang.

"What is it, Miria?" Isaac answered.

"I'm hungry."

Isaac noticed that he was too. Sightseeing made you forget hunger for the moment, but then the hunger would suddenly come up and remind you it was there. "Then, let's find a restaurant that will take our Japanese yen in exchange for Japanese food!"

* * *

><p><em>Skip to earlier in the day for a moment…<em>

"Now Mr. Dian and Ms. Harvent," the travel agent attempted. "If I could see the money you have, I can exchange it for Japanese yen."

"Exchange it?" Isaac wondered. "Why? Money is money, isn't it?"

"It's the same everywhere, isn't it?" Miria echoed, leaning closer to the travel agent.

"N-no, that's not quite right," the travel agent said. "You see, the _value_ can be taken anywhere, but different countries have different forms of showing the value. In America, it's in dollars and in Japan, it's in yen."

"Oh, I see," Isaac started as the travel agent inwardly knew he probably didn't. "So people need to show their money in different ways in different countries. Wherever there's a different language, there's a different type of money!"

"Kind of—" the travel agent muttered, but he was interrupted by Miria's constant feedback.

"Wow, Isaac," she said excitedly, "It's so clever! All the countries figured out their own type of money so no one can steal the idea from them."

Isaac seemed inspired from her words. "Well, Miria, it's like when people give money for food. They have the same value, but it's in different forms and you use them for different things! So just like we exchange dollars for food and eat it, we'll exchange our dollars for yen-"

"And eat it!" Miria exclaimed.

"No, yen is apparently a type of money. We can't eat it. But we can eat Japanese food with it."

"Like...sushi?"

* * *

><p><em>Back to the present…<em>

"Russia Sushi is good! It's yummy! Come and eat at Russia Sushi!" The large black man outside the corner shop was calling and handing out fliers to all the people on the street, who were mostly ignoring him.

Isaac and Miria, on the other side of the street, were entranced for a while by the man. They had learned a few Japanese phrases from the book the travel agent had given them. They couldn't understand much of what the man was saying, but they did recognize at least one word: sushi.

"Hey, Isaac, sushi is Japanese food, right?"

"That's right, Miria."

"So they should take Japanese money, right?"

"That's how it goes, Miria."

"Then let's go there!"

"Yes, even though we can't speak with them, we can text him and he'll understand our feelings!"

They ran across the road, which was fortunately displaying the light that indicated it was okay to cross. Once over, the large man smiled brightly at them and invited them to eat. Of course, because they didn't understand, Isaac took out his phone and began typing.

'We want to eat here. Do you take Japanese yen?' He showed this to the large man.

"Oh, mister, you want to eat Russia Sushi, right?" The man beamed at them, not understanding the words on the screen.

Miria cocked her head. "Russian sushi? Hey, Isaac, I didn't know sushi came from Russia. Will they still take Japanese money?"

Isaac considered this. "I'm sure they will, because this man is still speaking Japanese, I think."

"But how will we let him know we want to eat here? I don't know if he can read English."

"Oh…"

* * *

><p>Simon was in a quandary. He didn't know English. These people didn't know Japanese. But they wanted to eat sushi, right? They kept mentioning it.<p>

Well, food was the one thing that tied all people together, no matter how different they were.

"Dear customers, come in!"

He had decided to take initiative and gestured for the couple to enter the restaurant. They apparently got the message and followed him to a table. He showed them a picture menu and they pointed to everything on the list, talking eagerly to one another. The woman reached into her backpack and pulled out several wads of money, still wrapped in a paper band. Simon was surprised. There must have been about 400,000 yen in her hand (over 5,000 dollars).

They set the money on the table and, as they were waiting for the sushi that Simon had just told the chef to make, they chatted with each other in English, looking at the man's phone.

When Simon came with their order, they seemed to have figured out how to do something. The man typed something on his phone, pressed some other keys, and showed the screen to Simon.

Simon looked at it. It was a Japanese-English/English-Japanese language converter. They had picked the English-Japanese option.

'For sushi thank you accept Japanese yen right'

Simon made some type of sense from this and smiled, nodding. Might as well. He wasn't exactly sure what they were trying to say in the second half of the message, but the first half was a thank-you. These semi-incomprehensible messages kept coming as the two began to eat the sushi.

'Taste strange name'

Not sure whether they were asking for his name or the sushi's name, he gave both, still smiling.

'Good like we come again more'

Did they want more or were they going to come again for more at later times? Well, they didn't point to the menu again, but Simon decided to bring more of what they seemed to like best.

When they were done, they handed the wad of money to Simon and typed another message and translated it.

'Japanese yen work for paying right'

He wasn't sure what exactly this was asking, but he smiled and got their change. He knew it was difficult being a foreigner who didn't know much of the language.

As the two left, they waved to Simon. He waved back, encouraging them to come back in his heavily accented Japanese, hoping they would understand his feelings.

Maybe they would become regular customers.

* * *

><p>"Wow, Isaac! That Russian sushi was good!"<p>

"Of course it was good, Miria! It was a place we saw, after all!"

"But I wonder why it said 'Russian' sushi. It was made here in Japan, wasn't it?"

"Well, you see, Miria, Japanese people have to get their sushi fish from Russian fishermen! That's why the sushi fish are Russian!"

"Wow, Isaac, I never knew that! You're so smart!"

"Aren't I?"

* * *

><p><strong>Kimiko: It was hard ending this chapter. I'm not sure if it was good or not. So please review and tell me! I have no idea if you like this otherwise.<strong>


	4. Ghosts like motorcycles, too!

_Kimiko: I'm in a tremendously happy mood right now! So this one is longer than the last ones! Here you go, catgirl9696!_

**Ghosts like motorcycles, too!**

Now full of sushi, Isaac Dian felt fully revved up and ready to take on the world, or at least Japan. He stopped walking after they had gone half a block from the restaurant. Looking over at Miria, he took her hand.

"You see, Miria, texting can get us anywhere! As long as we can text, and translate the messages with that thingy on our phones, we can talk with anyone!"

To the slight annoyance to other pedestrians, they had begun to spin around like they were dancing.

"Wow, Isaac, really? We can even talk with a warlord?"

There wasn't much room on the street, so the people moved carefully around the two weird foreigners dancing in the middle of Ikebukuro.

"Of course, Miria! We could talk with warlords, overlords, even the Ghost Lord!"

Unbeknownst to them, they had partially strayed into the street.

"It's so incredible, Isaac! We can even share our feelings with people we've never met!"

The black motorcycle didn't realize Isaac and Miria were there until it hit them. The impact was over before even the rider knew what happened. The two victims landed in the street, temporarily stunned by the shock of being hit.

* * *

><p>Celty panicked as she stopped her bike and hurried over to the two lying flat in the street. A few people who were walking by stopped for a few moments, as if they had never seen a motorcycle hit a person before. Several wondered aloud if she was the famous Black Biker. Celty ignored all of this background noise as she knelt down next to the man and woman and tried to help them up.<p>

But they were already sitting up and chatting to each other, talking in English, but clearly agitated.

"Wow, that came out of nowhere, didn't it?"

"It could have been a hit-and-run, couldn't it, Isaac?"

Celty was relieved to find there was no immediate trauma. She stood up with the odd-looking couple.

"But still, miss, you should apologize for running into us!"

"Yes, hitting a person on a motorcycle isn't nice, you know!"

"You should be more careful! There's no excuse for carelessness."

"No excuse!"

* * *

><p>Isaac and Miria had quite forgotten to type-and-translate. Fortunately, this particular person really did understand English and there was no need for it.<p>

The rider reached for her phone and typed a message. She held it up to them. It was in the Latin alphabet and not in the odd-looking Japanese symbols.

'I'm very sorry for running into you. Are you hurt anywhere?'

They shook their heads to indicate that they were in fact fine. Miria was intrigued.

"Oh, miss, do you know English?"

The rider nodded.

Isaac frowned. "Then you could speak it. Texting is for people who cannot connect otherwise. But as English-speaking fellows, we now have a bond that few other people here could have."

The rider paused. Then she typed something else.

'I can't talk.'

Instantly, the two were all over her, bawling genuine tears.

'Oh, you poor girl!"

"That must be so hard on you!"

"It's okay, Isaac and me will help you with whatever you need!"

"Do you want to talk—um, I mean, text—about anything?"

* * *

><p>Celty believed these people had made a mistake. She shook her head vehemently and waved her hands defensively in front of her. She managed to get another text written to clear up any confusion.<p>

'There's nothing really wrong with me. I'm fine!'

"But, you said you can't speak!" The blond woman was in tears. "It must be so hard!"

"But don't be sad!" The man exclaimed. "Even if not everyone can talk, everyone can love. We'll share our love with you! So you don't have to be upset anymore!"

Celty really wanted to clear at least one thing up. 'I said I can't talk, but it's not like I'm mute. I—' She briefly considered whether she should say it to these people. '—don't have a head. I'm a dullahan.'

She didn't know if the two would know, so as she showed them her phone, she also lifted her helmet visor. The two looked inside. Their eyes widened, but they didn't scream. Instead, the man gave a knowing look at the woman.

"You see, Miria? With texting, our feelings can reach even Miss Dullahan, the Ghost Lady!"

"That's right, Isaac! Even this wandering ghost that can drive motorcycles! She can text and share her love through phones!"

"Yes, people really all the same. People love food and phones and money and motorcycles! And ghosts like motorcycles, too!"

"They do!"

For the first time that day, Celty inwardly laughed. These people were so heartwarming.

* * *

><p>"By the way, Miss Dullahan, do you know your way around this city?" Isaac asked the ghost-biker. "You see, we're actually new here and we're not sure where to go next."<p>

Miria added, "We need to find a place to stay for the night, but we can't read Japanese yet."

The biker nodded and gestured to her motorcycle. It seemed bigger than before, with enough room to squeeze on three people. She saw Miria on the front, sat behind her and Isaac got on last.

Isaac and Miria were excited. They had never been on a motorcycle before. They had expected it to be rumbling, but there were hardly any vibrations at all. They did have enough sense to hold on tight as the ghost-biker took off.

The cool air blew past them as they shot around the city. Isaac and Miria wanted to look at everything at once, but they always seemed to be passing the thing that caught their eyes. Everything seemed so bright and colorful and lively, just like when they went to that city called Las Vegas with their friend Howard Hughes (see note below) a few years ago.

The ride seemed to both go on forever and end too soon. The ghost-biker stopped in front of a nice hotel and gestured that is was time for Isaac and Miria to end their fun.

Isaac got off, then Miria. They looked up at the hotel and considered going in, but they simultaneously remembered something important.

"Wait, Miss Dullahan!" Isaac exclaimed. "Let us escort you home. A young lady like you shouldn't have to go home alone, even if you are a ghost."

"Yes, cities can be dangerous!" Miria said, genuinely worried for their ghost friend's safety. "We need to see you off at your house!"

The ghost-biker seemed to hesitate, so Isaac pressed on. "Besides, it's the least we can do for all the help you've given us." He had already forgotten about the collision earlier.

"Please let us do this for you!" Miria begged.

The ghost nodded and held up her phone screen. 'Thank you. I don't live too far away.'

* * *

><p>Celty finally arrived at the door with the two foreigners in tow. She knocked on the door and Shinra's face instantly burst through the door, jumping at her. She allowed herself to be hugged by him.<p>

The two who had followed her there looked on curiously, whispering to each other. The man had a knowing look and the woman's eyes were as wide as saucers.

Shinra was asking who they were. Celty typed, 'They're two people I met today. They wanted to walk me home.'

Shinra smiled brilliantly and faced the two. "Thanks! I'm glad you kept her company today!"

Celty shook her head. 'They're from America. How could they understand you?' Shinra considered this, and then shook the man's hand, saying "Thank you" in English.

The man and woman smiled back. "Ore wa Isaac!" The man burst out. "And ore wa Miria!" The woman chirped. They didn't seem to understand why Shinra was laughing, but they took it to mean they were all friends now and hugged both Shinra and Celty.

"Shinra," he said, pointing to himself and, to Celty, "Celty."

The two bobbed their heads, waved energetically and walked off down the hall.

* * *

><p>"So the ghost's name is Celty Dullahan," Isaac said as they walked back to the hotel their new friend had shown them. "And her lover's name is Shinra…"<p>

Miria let out a sigh. "Isn't that nice, Isaac? She has someone to take care of her. I want someone to take care of us too."

Isaac thought about this. "Well, you have me and I have you! That's enough, right?"

Miria let this sink in. "I guess it is!"

* * *

><p><strong>Kimiko: Howard Hughes actually iswas a real person. Look him up on Wikipedia. And he didn't live "a few years" ago.**

**Also, I didn't think that Isaac or Miria would know the difference between different Japanege alphabets. I didn't mean to make anyone upset or anything.**

**__Flanagan: And we'd like reviews.**

**Kimiko: I hope catgirl9696 likes this chapter, too!  
><strong>


	5. Domestic violence! On the street!

_Kimiko: This is going to be the last "Isaac and Miria in Japan" ramble. I don't want the Durarara setting to become too much like Baccano, because I don't think that's what Ryohgo Narita wanted. Come to think of it, I'd be happy if he never found out about any of this… Anyway, I really enjoyed writing this and I've already planned another fic that has these two in it. I'm not sure when I'll get to it though, because I have my hands and brain full with __Power of Reason, Power of Magic__ right now. So much power, so little time!_

_Flanagan: You're digressing, Kimiko._

**Domestic violence! On the street!**

"Ah, another day, another dollar, Miria," Isaac said, hoping to sound smart, as he stretched his arms toward the sky.

"What does that mean, Isaac?" Miria wondered.

Isaac was silent for a few seconds, pondering what it really did mean. Why did people have to come up with these confusing idioms? "Well you see, Miria," he said, hastily coming up with a response. "We're in that Dollars group now, remember?" It began to flow more naturally into his mind now.

"I remember."

"That text said we were special for joining the Dollars. That means only one person is chosen each day to join that group."

"But we're two people, Isaac."

"That just means we're even more special! We break the rules, Miria!"

"Oh! I see now! So it means it's okay to break rules, right?"

"That's exactly right!"

* * *

><p>Izaya smiled to himself as he heard the voices of the two people he had been hoping to meet again. He had even strayed into the part of town where Shizuo always was prowling around like a walking bomb. They were across the street, walking towards a small crowd gathered around something.<p>

He quickly crossed the street, as there was still time, and called out to them. He remembered their names, of course, and hoped they had remembered him. "Mr. Isaac, Miss Miria," he said in English.

The two heard their names and spun around to face him. They seemed to recognize him instantly. "Oh, it's our friend from the train!" Isaac said with a grin. He enveloped Izaya in a giant hug. Miria followed suit, saying, "It's so nice to see you again!"

"You've been a tremendous help!"

"Now we can text with people in that sushi restaurant and even with ghosts!"

Izaya could have listened to them for a while, but he suddenly found out what the crowd had gathered for. Tom Tanaka and Shizuo Heiwajima were speaking to a man complaining about some debt he had accumulated.

"I'm telling you, it's unfair," the man was stupidly saying, "I'm perfectly happy right now! My life is in total bliss! I don't need you debt collectors knocking at my door!"

Izaya waited for the interesting moment when Shizuo would snap. It came, Shizuo crushing his cigarette underfoot as he grabbed a "Slow for Pedestrians" sign. He sent the man flying into a mailbox near Izaya, Isaac and Miria.

Meanwhile, the two foreigners were terrified.

"Hey, Isaac, look! It's domestic violence, isn't it?"

"On the street, too! This is Sparta, isn't it?"

"It must be!"

"It's like that time in Washington DC, Miria!"

"It is!"

"We should be careful, Miria. But you can count on me. I'll protect you from any dangerous people!"

"Thanks, Isaac! I know I can depend on you!"

Izaya smirked. He loved these two characters more than the average predictable person. But right now, he had to be wary. Shizuo was bound to see him and start charging like a mad rhino at him. There, now it was all happening, just as he thought. Izaya pulled out his switchblade knife and began to slip away, and start the fun chase.

"I have to go now; I'll see you later, my friends." He waved to Isaac and Miria with the hand that wasn't holding the knife and thought about his surroundings.

That light was about to turn green. Izaya danced playfully but quickly across the road, waiting for Shizuo to follow and get hit by the truck that was waiting for the signal.

* * *

><p><strong>Kimiko: Thanks for reading this! Review and tell me what you thought overall, please!<strong>

**Flanagan: Thanks for putting up with us!**


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